A New Path
by wolf-and-candy
Summary: A new boy has arrived at Fox River right after the first failed escape. What happens when he is exactly what Michael need for his new plan to work? And how can the boy survive when a lot of prisoners wants him as their own bed mate?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I sighted for the eighteenth time that day. Slid down in a comfortable position on the overused bus seat, narrowed my eyes and gave an overheated glare to the passengers who were staring at me. I smiled for myself when they looked away, and put the little backpack I had carried on the bus in the unoccupied seat next to me. The backpack was carrying all the personal belongings I was allowed to bring to prison. That's right, I'm going to prison. Fox River to be exact. I felt the butterflies flame up in my belly as I thought of the next three years I'm going to spend in an all-man-prison with murderers and rapists.

Again I sighted. I just have to do my time and not draw any attention to myself. I tensed when I felt someone stare at me. I pushed my blond bangs out of my eyes and looked around in the small bus. I quickly noticed the guy who was staring at me, he wasn't hard to see. He had white tanktop, completed with sweat rings under the arms, pants that where much to tight to him, so his stomach was hanging out, hair that looked like it was going to fall of any second and a face that resembled a pig's.

I gave him another glare, but he didn't back out. The man continued to leer perversely at me, and it developed into a staring contest.

After about five minutes I broke the contact. Ether it was because I simply couldn't watch that greasy man's face anymore or it was because my eyes began to water. I like to think it was the first option.

I tried to place my head in a position on the dirty window so I could get some sleep before we arrived. I knew it was a long ride there so if I got a lot of sleep I might get there outrested. I missed a lot of sleep lately, being unable to relax because I knew I was going to prison.

More people were staring at me now, I knew it. I could feel their glaze, wondering what a young boy form the rich side of the street was doing in a place like this. They can wonder all they want.

I slid my hand through my hair smoothly before closing my eyelids.

Michael Scofield leant against the fence in the Yard with a view over the paring spots. His spanich roommate, Sucre, was currently talking about Maricruze, and how they where going to get married.

Michael didn't listen. His thought was racing through the pipes and tunnels in the prison, planning how to break out of this place. After the failed first attempt, he didn't want to make any mistakes.

He noticed T-Bag making his way towards them, and Sucre immediately stopped talking.

"Hello there, Pretty," the Alabamian drawled as he came close enough for Michael and Sucre to hear. "What's fillin' your mind?"

"Well Fish, I have... er… _something_ I must do." Sucre said fast before taking of. T-Bag laughed.

"It would seem like your roommate doesn't like me very much, don't you think Scofield?"

"I wouldn't know." Michael answered, not even sparing the pedophile a glance.

T-Bag looked like he was about to say something more to Michael, but something caught his attention. A prison bus was slowly rolling in on the paring lot.

"Would you look at that." T-Bag said. "A new load of freshmen. Finally somethin' to spice this place up a notch." The southern man licked his lips.

I woke up startled. Where am I? Oh yes, the bus. Damn. I dreamt that the bus had an accident and everybody escaped. If only.

The bus stopped, and everybody on it began to climb out through the small doors. I got up from my seat, stretched, grabbed the little backpack in one hand and joined the line to the doors. Once outside I stretched again, before looking at the building I'll be spending the next three years in. A tall brick building surrounded by walls and guard posts. Some prisoners where outside and watched us, the newcomers, through the fences.

"Move!" I heard a guard sneer at us. The other newcomers didn't look scared. I was probably the youngest one here, and also the smallest one. Damn the small genes passed down through the generations in my family!

We walked up to the main building, between the two fences on each side, both with prisoners having free time. I tried to concentrate on the walls in front of me, and not the cat-calls that were thrown our way. I looked curiously to the right when I heard someone whistle. I didn't see what the person looked like, because I eyes locked with his. White skin and brown eyes. That was all I registered before the man got a twisted grin on his face. I tore my own eyes away and proceeded to quickly walk by the others. I tried not to look back.

Once every new con was inside the registration department, one of the guards began to explain what was going to happen the next twenty minutes. Something about a quick shower, followed by an oral test and then getting the new clothes that we'll be using while we serve our time. I only listened half-heartedly because I already knew what was going to happen. My lawyer had explained everything to me before I left home.

I stripped quickly and got in the line for the showers. I knew that some of the other men were staring at me (some of them didn't even bother to hide it and waggled their eyebrows pervertely at me) but I chose not to see it. Instead I ignored them, showered with closed eyes to block out everyone around me and got ready for the oral test.

Captain Brad Bellick was currently doing his paperwork of the month when his eyes grazed the new inmates the prison just had gotten. Some of them had faces he recognised, those types that were always in and out of prison, but there were also new ones. He stood by one of the large windows in the hallway leading down to A-wing from the registration department. His eyes were still roaming through the cons, looking for familiar or interesting faces.

Then his glaze picked something up. A boy, couldn't be older that 18, with sun blond hair and pale, milky-white skin. He was on the left side of the showers, so the boy must had finished the shower and completed the oral test. His dark blue prison pants hung low on his hips, and he hadn't gotten his t-shirt on so he stood there bare-chested. Bellick could see the flat stomach and chest, lightly muscled but no visible abs.

Bellick stared. The boy looked a lot more like he was 15 than 18. Hell, he even looked a little like a girl, because of the thin waist and lightly curved hips. Bellick new that the boy would be torn apart by the other inmates if he ended up with a pervert as a cellmate, one that wouldn't protect him. Brad smiled evilly. He had never helped a con out of trouble and he would as sure as hell not start now. He shifted his eyes down at the papers he had in his hands and took a quick look over the cells that where available at the moment.

Bellick got a vicious look in his eyes when he found the perfect cellmate for the young looking boy. This was going to be fun.

"Jake Morrison. 18 years old. In for attempted murder. Ain't that right, Morrison?" the guard said to me. He had a stupid grin on his face, as if he was having a good time reading through my papers. _Maybe he knows who I'll have as a cellie, _I thought. _Probably someone bad, judging from the sadistic look he got. _

I wanted to glare at the man. He looked like he was well in his forties, half bold, and with a blue guard's uniform that looked way too tight for him. Roy Geary, I read at his badge. As I said, I wanted to glare. But I had to behave. Maybe this guy could arrange different cellies. If I played nice, he might set me up with a good guy.

So I smiled brightly at him.

"That's me boss." I said happily.

Geary looked a little perplexed by the sudden smile. I guess he didn't expect that from a new con.

"You trying anything with that smile of yours, Morrison?"

I blinked and my smile faded. "What would that be boss?"

"Nothin'." The guard muttered before looking down at his paperwork at his desk. I stood at the other side at the desk, my box of belongings at the floor beside me, waiting to know what cell I would be living in.

I was a little bit confused right now. Usually old people like this man would take a liking to me because of my politeness and innocence (fake innocence of coarse, but they didn't know that). This guy looked like he had kids so he had to have some pity towards me; I know I look young. I decided to try again.

"Sorry if I seem rude: believe it or not, but it is my first time in prison."

"So I see." Geary said. When he looked at me again, I decided to take the smile to the next level.

"Yeah, but it can't be that bad right? You guards look like you're doing a good job so I guess I have nothing to worry about." I ended the lie with another smile and a shy scratch in the back of my head.

I noticed the guard's lip twitching, as if he was going to smile. Then he looked down at the papers again. _Come on,_ I thought fast. _Bite the bait, stupid. Bite the bait!_

I saw with satisfaction that Geary took a pen and scrambled over some names and wrote in new ones. I couldn't read that well from afar, but it looked like I would have shared a cell with someone named Bagwell. Hmm… Never heard that name before… Maybe I did all this lying for nothing…

Then the guard looked up again, and he had a warm smile on his face. I smirked mentally. The guy had definitely taking a liking into me.

"Well Mr Morrison, you will be in cell 46. The guard over there will take you to it."

"Thank you!" another smile.

I picked up my stuff and walked over to the guard Geary had been talking about. He took my elbow in a firm grip, walked through a long corridor and into a new one, through a large door and into a large room that had about 100 small cells. The inmates were walking around in the small space, talking or fighting each other. It would seem like the people I had seen standing outside when I came here had come inside.

The guard, I didn't bother to read his nametag, led me up the second floor. I ignored the seductive smiles I got from some of the other cons and just watched the floor as we crossed the surface. Then the guard stopped in front of a cell, let go of my arm and walked of in the other direction again without as much as a word.

_Weird guy,_ I thought. Then I shrugged, and stepped inside the cell I would sleep in. It was small, not at all comfy, and the old bed used up almost all the space. Oh well, what more can you expect in a prison. I'm happy as long as I don't have to share a cell with a pedophile.

I bent down and pushed my box under the bead. Unpacking could wait.

"What are you doing in my cell?"

I turned around and eyed the man behind me. He had short cut brown hair, bushy eyebrows and short stumps of a beard, barely reaching out of his chin.

"I'm your new roommate." I said carefully judging his reactions.

"Roommate? You?" the man sniggered. "How old are you, _boy_?"

"Eighteen," I stated. "And just because you're older than me, doesn't mean I'm more of a _boy_ then you are." I could tell he was hesitating. Either blow me off and never speak to me again, and I'm guessing that's what he had done to his previous cellmates, or accept me. This guy looked like he was going to blow me off.

"You got some nerve speaking like that to me _boy_." the man said slowly before biting his lip. I continued to stare him in the eye, tried not to blink.

"And I like that." he said after a dramatic pause. He smirked while stretching out a hand. "John Abruzzi."

I blinked. I did not predict that he actually would accept me. Damn, I thought I was good at reading people. And this man was John Abruzzi? The mafia boss John Abruzzi? I got to be careful around this guy.

"The normal thing to do now squirt, would be to shake hands with me and tell me your name."

"Uhh… Oh, right!" I shook hand with him.

"Name's Jake." I said firmly.

"No last name kid?" _The stupid mafia is trying to figure out my name!_

"Not that I'm willing to share with a mafia boss."

Abruzzi eyebrows furred. "I recon you heard about me?"

"I've heard about all the mafia bosses around this country. Been involved with them myself." I tried to keep my sentences short and stable. I played tough, but when I fisted my hand I could feel them shaking.

"What do you mean 'you've been involved'?" Abruzzi dug. I could see he wasn't willing to let this conversation be led of track, but I wasn't about to answer these questions for him. I didn't want to think about what I did to come here in the first place now.

"Maybe you'll find out some day," I said before offering him a smile. "But I'm not going to tell you that right now. Deal with it."

I could see he had problems fighting back the anger that came swelling up in his chest when I didn't answer him. I didn't want to anger him anymore right now so I tried to change the subject.

"Which of the beds are mine? The bottom or the one at the top?"

The older man looked at me again. Searched my face for traces of lies or fear. I kept my face as emotionless as I could but I knew he spotted fear in my eyes.

"The bottom. You're definitely the one at the bottom."

The minute Abruzzi saw the kid walking out of the buss he new he had seen him before. The wild blond hair that reached the boy to a little above the shoulder and the small, lithe body what not something you forgot quickly. And the eyes. Big, ice-blue and with elegant blond eyelashes on top.

Don't get him wrong, Abruzzi was everything but gay. But the boy had something about him that just couldn't be forgotten. John was sure that if he got to know a name, he would know were he had seen the kid before. But the little runt refused to give John his name, even after John had been so polite and introduced himself like a civilized man.

So Abruzzi decided to wait. The boy was more than likely being targeted by more than one of the other cons. He had already overheard four or five of the more perverted inmates explain what they wanted to do to the kid. So Jake was likely to break in a very soon future. And when he was breaking, John would be sure to be there to get all the answers out of the runt.

"The bottom. You're definitely the one at the bottom."

I blinked. Was he implying something here? Don't misunderstand me, I am actually very smart, but there is something about the sex jokes. I never seem to understand them before its way to late. I bit my lower lip in thought. Then I noticed that John was about to leave.

"Oy, wait Mafia!" I yelled.

John whirled around in the cell exit. "Mafia is not my name Kid." He said with untamed fury.

"Fine, _John_, but if you keep calling me Kid then I will call you Mafia." _Wow, that's one of the lamest threats I've ever…_

"What do you want Kid?" he smiled. Unbelievable! He was going along with the joke! _Oh, it is so on!_

"Well, I was actually just wondering… Do you know who someone named Bagwell is?" I said, unable to hold my curiosity anymore. John frowned,

"Bagwell? Why do you want to know who that is?"

"Well, you see, I was actually assigned to share a cell with him, but I played nice to one of the guards and he assigned me to you instead. I'm just wondering if that was good or bad."

"Oh, that was defiantly good for you," Mafia smiled a crooked grin. "Theodore 'T-bag' Bagwell is one of the most dangerous criminals here."

"Apart from you, you mean?" I laughed.

"Yes." John traced his fingers through his unshaved face a few times. "He is in for life because he raped and killed six teenagers in Alabama. If you had shared a cell with him, you wouldn't have lasted a week in here." Then he turned around and walked away.

Raping and killing, eh? Well, I'm sure as hell glad I was nice to that guard. If I hadn't done it I would probably be gutted before this day was over.

I sighted. Well, it was a close call, but it didn't happen. No sense in sitting here all day and my legs were itching to move after the long buss ride. Time to get out and mingle! _Haha. Mingle. What a funny word._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The first thing I noticed when I was walking through the corridors was the various types of stares I got. Some was filled with pure lust and I couldn't look into their eyes before I got the overwhelming urge to throw up. Other glances were shy, gentler, as if they were just curious about me. And then it was contempt. Just as if those who were staring at me hated my guts from second one.

I blinked confused. What the hell had I done to already deserve hate? I tried to look for Mafia down from the second floor where I was standing; he was the only one I knew so far. But it was useless. It was just too many of the cons to recognize someone I've barely met.

"Enjoying the view Fish?" a man's voice spoke to me from behind. I turned around, only to stare at a guy's chest covered by a white t-shirt. I moved my neck back a few inches and stood face to face with a man with bronzed skin.

"Name's Fernando Sucre," he stated. Then he walked over to the railing beside me.

"Hi. I'm Jake." I said, not removing my eyes from the man.

"Just Jake?" he questioned.

"Just Jake."

The Puerto Rican smiled. I smiled. He seemed like an ordinary guy. Simple, didn't use too many words. Looked at me with curiosity. He didn't remind me of a jail's person at all.

"You look like a girl."

I furred my eyebrows and turned to him with my hands formed as fists.

"I do most definitely not!" I said angrily. He laughed while I fumed at his side, desperately wishing to punch him in his shoulder. I didn't though. I knew I had to be careful around here. And this guy was a head taller than me. I just frowned.

"Heh, look at that! Even your frown look like a girly pout!" the man said while laughing even harder. I clenched my teeth.

"Che! I don't care if you think I look like a girl 'cause I know I don't."

"Oh yeah? How come everybody in this place is thinking the same thing then?"

"They're not." I glared hatefully, though with a small smile resting on my lips. This guy was greatly annoying. He was in fact one of the most obnoxious persons I've talked to since I graduated high school, but he was entertaining in a weird way. And he seemed trustworthy.

"What's going on?" I heard somebody say to Sucre.

"Oh, Fish, you're back." The Puerto Rican said silently. "How did it go?"

"Good." the man answered curtly before looking at me. "Who's this?"

"Ah, sorry, I'm Jake. I came here today." I held out my hand.

The man shook it. "Michael Scofield." was the only thing he said. I was curious. What was Sucre asking about when he said 'how did it go'? And what had this guy done to get into prison? He looked like one of the classy kind, someone who belonged in an expensive apartment, not here.

"How old are you?"

The short question was followed by a quick once-over by Michael. I raised an eyebrow. Why do people care about how old I am?

"I'm eighteen," I said slowly. "Why are you asking about my age? You know that's actually kind of rude, yes?"

"Only if you're over thirty." Sucre said while laughing. "But seriously amigo, you should be aware of the population here. Many of the guys here hate boys that look like girls!"

"Then I won't have a problem, because I don't look like a girl." I said, patting myself mentally on the shoulder for having said such a smart comeback. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and unpack."

I walked away from the cellpair and slid inside my own cell again. The small box of belongings was fast empty and I sat down on my bunk and closed my eyes, thinking of everything I had done to wind up here.

"So this is where your cell is." I heard a heavy southern voice say from the entrance. "And this is where you hide."

I looked at him and immediately recognized the grin and the eyes. It was the guy who had whistled after me when I walked from the bus. He had brown-black hair that stood in a fluff at the front, a broad chest and dressed in the normal prison outfit. He wasn't as tall as Michael, but about the same high as Sucre which was more than a head taller than me.

"Hide?" I asked. "I'm not hiding."

I slowly rose from the bed. There was something threatening about this man, either the way he looked at me or the way he was holding each bar at the sides of the exit, blocking the way out. Maybe it was a combination of both.

"Well, whatever it was that you were doin', it is time for us to get a little more…" he took a step towards me while he licked his lips. "…acquainted."

"Okay." I said dumbly. Then I held out my hand as I had done two times earlier this day. "I'm Jake."

The man took my hand. "Call me T-Bag." he said.

I froze. So this was that Bagwell guy. Abruzzi had said that he was a murderer and a rapist. I took a step back and tried to pull my hand to me but T-Bag wouldn't let go. I felt a shiver run down my back. _Don't be scared of him, _I thought. _I've been in much worse situations before, so why do I freeze up like this?_

T-Bag smiled. The boy in front of him was absolutely worth the effort he had put in making all the other inmates who also was interested to back off. He saw that the restrained fear in Jake's eyes when he had said what his name was, and noticed that the boy was shaking. T-Bag took another step into the cell, coming closer to the frightened boy and still not letting go of his hand

"You afraid of me boy?" T-Bag said, speaking with a deep, sensual voice. The annoyance came welling up in Jake's eyes when the pedophile called him 'boy'.

"Look," the younger one said as he straightened up his posture. "I've heard nothing but bad things about you. I have the right to be a little… edgy." Again he tried to twist his hand free. "Can you please let go of my arm?"

The older one stared with excitement down at Jake. The kid managed to talk to him with a straight face even though he knew what T-Bag had done to end up in jail. Not only that, the boy had looked him straight in the eye the whole time, probably spotting the lust resting there, and still requested him to let his hand go.

It was admirable. And T-Bag wanted him.

Within a second the southern man had Jake pressed up against the wall. His hands were on both sides of the younger's head effectively trapping him. T-Bag looked the boy right in the eye through a haze of lust and craving. Jake had confusion written clearly in his eyes, making him look deliciously innocent. Then they narrowed, sending out a strong glare.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jake said angrily. He then tried to push Bagwell of himself, only to yelp in pain when his wrists were smashed hard to the wall over his head. Again he glared at the much bigger man. "Let go of me!"

"See, that's not goin' to happen Jake." was the drawling answer. "I'm goin' to have my fun with you whether yah like it or not." The man then proceeded to grind their hips together.

The boy made a strangled yelp, desperately trying to be quiet. T-Bag smirked. If it was one thing he knew about teenagers it was that their hormones flew wild. They couldn't control themselves even if they didn't want to enjoy the very pleasurable feeling of arousal. The little noises coming out of the boy's mouth sent shivers of excitement down T-Bag's spine and made blood flow south.

He wanted to tear the boy's clothes off of him and take him right there, against the wall, but he knew he couldn't. Jake was sharing a cell with Abruzzi and if the mobster walked in on them… no, he had to wait. And right now he was just teasing the teenager, getting a taste of what he could offer. So far he was not disappointed. The older man could feel stiffness pressing against him, though he wanted the boy to get fully hard.

T-Bag pulled away and grinned evilly at the younger.

"Get the hell away from me!" Jake snarled, still slightly flushed from the rough contact.

"You don't want that." T-Bag said. He was still grinning and when he led his right hand down to the boy's crotch, the smile widened. Finding the obvious erection, he cupped it through the layers of clothes and stroked slowly, enjoying the wonderful sounds Jake was making. "When you're this hard down here, how can I take no for an answer?"

"Damn it!" Jake cursed. He threw his head back and closed his eyes when T-Bag's hand dipped down in his pants, tried to shut himself away from the very pleasurable feeling the murderer gave him. He felt himself get closer and began to get more desperate for contact, so his traitorous hips started automatically to thrust against the wonderful, stroking hand. When he finally came, Jake bit down on his lip hard to stop himself from shouting, but he couldn't stop himself from moaning. He just stood there against the wall with the older man hovering over him who was smiling like a cat that got its cream.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" T-Bag whispered into Jake's ear and then licked the outer shell.

"I have to excuse my self now boy," he said ruffling the other male's hair. "But trust me when I'm sayin' that we will continue this in a very short amount of time." He could feel the boy's resistance and immediately knew that it would be fun to break him in.

He got up, winked at the dazzled but furious teenager and walked out of the cell.

'What the hell?'

Jake's brain didn't function normally for the next five minutes. He just leaned against the wall thinking about how weak he was. 'I should've been able to defend myself! It's not like I'm some inexperienced teenager with absolutely no self-control.'

That was true. Jake has had his share of sexual experience so far in his life. Having lots of female attention at school because of his sport talents, good looks and manners was something he had taken advantage of, and because of his feminine looks he had gotten male attention too. Guys were flirting with him all the time and he was at peace with it because it wasn't bothering him. He was straight. But the overwhelming feeling he had gotten when T-Bag had fondled him was making him doubt his sexuality.

'I got to stay away from that man,' he thought. 'And if anything like this happens again, I will fight a lot more than I did now.'

When a smiling T-Bag came walking out of the new boy's cell, it didn't take a genius to know that something was wrong. Michael stood leaned against the railing outside of his own cell when he saw the rapist making his way toward him. Michael met T-Bag eyes in a glare and waited impatiently for him.

"What did you do to the kid?" Michael asked as soon as the man could hear him.

"Ah, just because I talked to him you assume I did something?" T-Bag said with faked sadness. "I'm hurt Pretty."

"We had a deal." Michael said, taking a step towards the older man. "I won't tell anyone about Bob if you lay off the kids."

"Now that's not right, is it Pretty?" T-Bag answered. "The agreement was that I lay off Tweener. I've been a good boy and played by the rules but this time you don't got anything to blackmail me with." The man took a break, pausing for the words to have larger effect. "That boy in there is mine whether you like it or not Scofield. This time you can't stop me from having exactly what I want." Then he walked away.

Michael cursed. What could he do for the boy now? Should he just leave him like Seth?

"Cell time!" a guard yelled and everybody made their way to their own cell. I was still inside my cell, partly in shock of what had happened, looking up at the underside of the bed above mine. Stupid T-Bag! If only it was something I could do to make him go away.

_I have to get some sort of protection, _I thought. _Try to work myself into one of the gangs here._ But how to do that?

I pictured myself alone in the prison showers and shivered slightly when gang-rapes visions came up in my mind. Getting protection was not something I could do; it was something I had to do. When I heard that I was going to prison I'd imagined that it would be pedophiles and child molesters here, and I had imagined that I would be a perfect victim for them because I look like I'm younger than I am, but they are always on the bottom ranks in prison. I had thought that I could handle them. But when T-Bag had… bothered me, something inside me just stopped. I was afraid for him.

I buried my hands in my blond looks. I have to make getting protection my top priority now.

"What are you looking so worried about?"

It was Abruzzi. Stupid mafia, tearing me away from my thoughts… wait a second. He's a mafia! He probably has a whole mob. Maybe I can join them!

"Oi, Abruzzi?" I said while sitting up. "Any chance for me to join your mafia-club?"

"'Mafia-club'?" the older man said while he brushed his teeth, looking at me through the mirror. "That question is actually so stupid I won't answer."

"The question was stupid?" I asked troubled. "Why can't I join?"

Abruzzi spit out the toothpaste in his mouth, wiped it off on a towel and made his way up to the top bed without looking at me. "Maybe because you made it perfectly clear earlier that you didn't want to share information." He stretched across the bed, preparing to sleep. "If you don't share information, we won't protect you."

I twitched. "How did you know that I wanted protection?" I said angrily.

"Probably because you are fragile, girly and young. Now be quiet. I'm going to sleep and don't wake me up."

I glared at the back of his head in a try to get him to notice me. When he didn't, I stripped down to my boxers and crawled under the sheet on the bed, preparing for sleep.

I could clearly count Abruzzi out. There is no way I'm telling him my name. My real name. I just have to get protection from somewhere else.

The first night went fast. I got as little sleep as I usually get, I got the endless nightmares to thank for that, but it seem like we had to get up earlier than I thought. The guards where loud, too loud when it was this early. The way they shouted was annoying and I wanted to shout back at them to "shut the hell up" but instead I buried my head in the dirty pillow.

"Getting up at 6 am on a Saturday," I mumbled grumpily as I used all my willpower in my body to keep my eyelids up. "It gotta be some kind of crime just to do that. It is against the nature of human beings!"

Abruzzi snored. He was currently bending over the sink, carefully shaving away the short stubs of hair in his face. He was already dressed. How he'd dressed so fast was beyond me, because I always use more time than regular in the mornings. I knew I had wild out-of-bed hair right now, and I tried to mow my hair down so it didn't spike up. But it was no use. Three seconds later it was just as untamed as it was before the hopeless attempt.

I tore the warm blanket off my body and tried to fish up my clothes from the floor. I decided to ignore Abruzzi's comments about how stupid I looked while I was tried, and put my clothes on quickly.

When the guards came for the second time and the cell doors opened, I had managed to get my pants on, even though they where too big for me and they clung to my hips to desperately not fall down, and I got my white prison shirt on. I still had the unmistakable bedhair and I hadn't washed my face yet so I was tired. But I could sleep later. Abruzzi walked past me and through the open cell door, joining the people in line there to get out of GenPop and get something to eat. I had better time. Down on the first floor I saw T-Bag getting out of the overfilled room. I shuddered visibly at the sight if him.

The breakfast came and went. The bread tasted like it was three months old and I didn't even dare to think about why the white cheese had a brownish colouring. I tried to stay by myself, draw little attention and decided to look for protection out in the yard. I didn't want to get myself messed up in any fights this early in my time.

Yard time finally came. Everybody was minding their own business; playing basket, lifting waits or talking to each other about unknown things for me. I've made it so far past the day without getting in too much trouble. I knew that I had some eyes at me as I crossed the yard, sitting down on the grass against one of the large fences across the basketball court. I buried my hands in the dirt beneath me is I felt the familiar twitch of need when I saw the ball being dribbled around.

I wanted to join the playing inmates, take the ball and play the way I used to do in high school. 'Maybe I can too,' I though, almost trying to reassure myself. 'I just have to wait for the best moment.'

"Hey fish, what's up?" Sucre asked his roommate in a low tone when Michael returned to the yard after being in the pipes beneath the prison. "Found out anything more about the route?"

Michael sent Sucre a disappointed look. "I found the way."

"But?"

"But I can't get through the vent," Michael bit out, slamming his fist into the fence he leaned against. "It's too small. I can't get into it, I'll be stuck."

Sucre frowned. "Can't you find another way?"

"Yes, probably, but this is by far the fastest one."

They both pondered for a minute. "What are we looking for here, fish?" Sucre asked.

"Well," Michael started, biting his nails in thought: "We need someone small enough to get into that vent, crawl all the way up to the infirmary and open the door for us"

Silence.

Then Sucre's face lit up. "The kid." he said slowly. "The new kid that just got here. We can use him!"


End file.
